Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Turkey and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Tomorrow to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All Cameo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Slits,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Count Five,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Wire,
Half Japanese,
Colin Newman,
Second Layer,
Kaleidoscope,
The Residents,
Smog,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Groovy Waters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Crime,
Animal Collective,
Cameo,
Todd Rundgren,
Youth Brigade,
The Invisible,
Nico,
Mr. Review,
Donald Byrd,
Suicide,
Barrington Levy,
Banda Bassotti,
The J.B.'s,
Minnie Riperton,
The Motions,
Jesper Dahlback,
Can,
Ultimate Spinach,
Suburban Knight,
Bronski Beat,
The Music Machine,
Sugar Minott,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Young Rascals,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Black Flag,
Maurizio,
Unwound,
Idris Muhammad,
The Neon Judgement,
Eurythmics,
Wally Richardson,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tres Demented,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Amon Düül,
Mandrill,
The Velvet Underground,
Echospace,
The Human League,
The Martian,
The American Breed,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.